Fountain Of Poop

On the day of Jaxon's dedication at church, JD and I had our own type of initiation as parents. The day started out innocently enough, with the bug dressed in his finest (minus his shoes and still half asleep).

(Ignore the date on the pictures, I need to figure out how to get that off.)

JD's parents met us at our house and my parents met us at the church. There was a reception before the service for the families who were dedicating babies, where we were served breakfast, had our picture taken as a family, and were able to introduce some of the assistant pastors to Jaxon.

We were having a great time at the reception and decided to give Jax a bottle since it was close to his feeding time and we didn't want a fussy baby during the dedication or service. JD offered to feed him -to allow me to finish eating my breakfast- so I passed the baby over to him. Around this time, one of the pastors went to the front and started speaking, explaining how the dedication would work and where we should sit, etc. So at this point, everyone was quiet and listening to the pastor (when before we had all been chatting and eating and whatnot).

As I was sitting there with my Mama heart full of gratitude to be able to dedicate my beautiful baby in the same church I grew up in, surrounded by our loving parents, I heard the loud, unmistakable sound of a baby toot. I glanced to my right and time immediately ground to a screeching halt, as everything went into slow motion.

My beautiful husband was holding my perfect little son against his chest as he burped him, and my son's pristine white pants had a literal fountain of crap exploding out of the top of them. It was a scene straight out of a movie that I would've seen and thought, "No way that would ever happen in real life!" Picture a chocolate fountain at a wedding. Now picture that chocolate fountain coming out of my son's pants, running all over his outfit and into a puddle the approximate color of prehistoric goo, right into his daddy's khaki-clad lap.

Please also keep in mind that the days of those relatively neutral-smelling breastmilk diapers are long over and we're now enjoying the putrid smell of formula diapers. This smell is bad enough when contained in a diaper, but when it's all over baby and baby daddy's clothes, there really are no words to adequately describe the grossness.

I looked around and saw that people's pleasant faces were turning to looks of disgust and confusion as the smell smacked them in the face and they tried to figure out where it was coming from. Needless to say, I panicked. 

I grabbed the diaper bag and JD's arm and hauled the two of them out of there AFAP (as fast as possible), with my bewildered mom close behind. We reached the church lobby and saw that it was packed. Our little lovebug had timed his job perfectly, so that the early service was ending and people were leaving, just as more people were arriving for the later service. Basically he made sure that we got the maximum exposure possible. We wove through the masses, leaving a sea of wrinkled noses in our wake. 

As far as I was concerned, our dedication experience would have to be completed another day. I was more than ready to pack it in and run home with my tail between my legs. But thank heaven for my level-headed husband. He simply asked me for some wet paper towels and announced that he was going to a nearby store to buy another pair of pants.

So my mom and I practically bathed the baby in the restroom and changed him into the back-up fancy outfit that I had miraculously packed (never dreaming we'd actually need it). We all headed into the service, hoping that JD would make it back in time for the dedication.

Shortly before it was time for us to go to the front for the prayer, JD strolled in wearing a sharp-looking pair of new pants (though still trailing a slight scent of baby poo). He had managed to buy new pants, change in the church parking lot, and get back just in time for the bug's dedication. I'm not sure I've ever loved him more than I did in that moment.

All's well that ends well, and we have a successfully dedicated baby, a nice new pair of pants for Daddy, and an embarrassing story to tell Jaxon's future girlfriends. You know what they say about payback, my little love!

(Please note Jaxon's new -clean- outfit here.)